


I'll Take a Howl at that Moon

by LunarAsylum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Pre-Season/Series 10, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has just awoken as a demon, and he's adjusted a bit quicker than anyone would've expected, mostly Crowley. </p><p>(This is my interpretation of what will happen between the season finale and the start of season 10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Take a Howl at that Moon

_Prompt: Scream, Universe, Cold_

 

Silence.

 

It's all I can hear, breathe and feel. It's become everything I am and will be from now until the ends of time. And then it all rushes back to me in an overwhelming wave of sensory details. Words, a voice. I know them. I _feel_ them.

 

“Let's take a howl at that moon.”

 

It sank in for a moment, those words, and I felt no need to breathe in. I opened my eyes, to be greeted with what seemed like a new world, but I knew, somewhere deep down, that I was what was different.

 

I looked over to see Crowley standing there, but he looked different to me. I could see his face, or his real face, so to speak. I didn't understand why I was seeing him. Perhaps this was his personalized Hell for me.

 

“So I'm dead?”

 

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

 

“What do you mean 'in a manner of speaking'??” I snapped, sitting up, noticing the First Blade in my hands. I didn't understand. It had been a very clear stab wound by Metatron. I should be deader than dead. “What did you do to me?”

 

“Me? Nothing, I didn't do a thing, Dean. Not really,” Crowley said, and I didn't believe him for a minute. He had to have known this was coming, there was no way he didn't.

 

“Don't you lie to me,” I growled, moving with a swiftness I didn't know I could have. He was up against the wall, my arm at his neck before I even knew what I was doing.

 

“I'm not lying, Dean. I swear to you, I didn't know this would happen,” he said, his voice an unusual quiet.

 

“What happened to me?” I asked, glaring at him, not releasing any of the pressure against his throat. He would give me a straight answer.

 

“You died. And then you didn't,” he said, and I lost my patience with him, punching him square in the middle of the face.

 

“Did you really think that was going to clear anything up, you douche?” I growled out, letting both my arms fall to my side. “What am I, Crowley?”

 

“You're a demon.”

 

I froze, my eyes locked on his face, searching, pleading for any trace of a lie. There was no way I was a demon. Your soul had to do an all expenses-paid trip to Hell, and while I had been, there was no way that was just now coming to bite me in the ass.

 

“How?” I asked, before looking down at the blade that was still clenched in my right hand. “The Blade.”

 

“The Blade,” he reiterated, making me want to punch him in the face again. “Perhaps, Dean, we should make our exit, unless you'd like your brother to find you like this.”

 

I feel assured that if I could've seen myself, I'd have been incredibly pale after hearing that. I felt Crowley's hand on my shoulder, and then the bunker room was no longer around me. We were in an incredibly nice hotel room, my guess is the pent house suite based on my knowledge of Crowley.

 

“So what exactly are you expecting out of me, Crowley? You want me to be your bestie and we can go and create mayhem together?” I asked, looking over at him.

 

“That was the second idea. First is to at least educate you on what you can do,” Crowley said, offering me a smirk.

 

“Well, you can shove your Hell date up your ass,” I said, scowling at him. Why did he think I'd ever buddy up with him when this was entirely his fault.

 

“I'll only do that if you can actually tell me you'd survive on your own as a demon. You're a capable man, Dean, I understand this, but you don't know the first of what you could do now,” Crowley said, sparking my attention.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You remember Cain, I'm sure. And his abilities. You forget you're the same as him now,” Crowley said, and it took me aback. I hadn't concerned that, moreover focused with the fact that I was no longer human.

 

“You're next to invincible, Dean. Cain's been alive for centuries and then some. He's immortal, Dean, except to that Blade, now that he's passed on the Mark. He has powers even your precious angel buddies couldn't think of.”

 

For some inexplicable reason, that brought a smirk to my face. Just imagining all the things I could do with forever, well, that was just a life of perfection.

 

“And remind me again what's keeping me from killing you again?” I said, turning back to look at Crowley. “I mean, really, why do I need you? I've got forever to experiment, right?”

 

“Now, Dean... really? You're going to talk to your king-”

 

“You're going to try and call yourself my king?” I snapped, rage nearly blinding me in that moment. This prick at the audacity to try and lord himself over me. “You've got balls, I'll admit that, but let me make something perfectly clear, Crowley. You don't own me. You don't get to be my master or my best friend. You don't even get to be my ally, unless I say so. So keep your bullshit to yourself.”

 

And with that, I was gone. I don't know where, but I just left and appeared elsewhere. I don't know where I went, but I explored and I enjoyed it. It was pure and unadulterated freedom. I explored this little town (later, I found out from a very wealthy woman that the town was called Telluride in Colorado) and found all the little niches that were there.

 

Apparently, the town was a celebrity dive nestled in the heart of the mountains in Colorado, and I had to congratulate myself on landing here of all places. It was a fresh experience for me, to be completely free, and without inhibitions or limitations. I could do whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted because of who I was. So I reveled in this new found freedom and shook cities and towns to their basic instincts.

 

I hit so many cities and bars and girls that I've honestly lost count, but I have to admit it's been the wildest time of my life. And I've yet to get bored of it. Occasionally, I'd try to get Crowley to join in on my trouble, to see if he really wanted to “teach me the ways”, but he couldn't handle it. It was pretty pathetic, really, how quickly he bowed out.

 

But now, now I know I should've been slightly more inconspicuous about my doings, because Sam had somehow caught up to me. I had known, within a week of my own disappearance that he would hunt me down, but it honestly amused me when I found out just how far he went to find me.

 

I mean, really, Sam had become more like me without even changing himself, and that, I must say, is a damn good job of him. So I figured why not leave him a nice, bright trail to follow me until he could completely catch up. Beat the shit out of a couple of guys here, kill a dude or two there. Why not?

 

And like I knew he would, he caught on fast, the word of my facade got around fairly quickly. He followed my trail like a drug dog and I lead him back home. It wasn't hard to get inside the bunker, not really. I was still me, just different. It didn't even occur to me to hide the car, so Sam knew I was there when he got there. I could hear him shouting down different halls, so I decided to greet him like any brother would.

 

“Heya, Sammy,” I said, appearing behind him like it was magic. He spun around with a quick ease I was accustomed to. The fear and shock radiated off him like it was cologne and it made me smile. Boy, had I missed that face.

 

“Dean? But... how? Who? When?”

 

“Whoa, there, Sammy, don't ask too many questions, you might over excite me,” I said, laughing, before giving him the answer he never wanted. I let my eyes answer the question, and he was instantly on edge, knife in hand.

 

“What have you done with my brother?!” he growled at me and I laughed again.

 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Ever as much oblivious as you were before all this. Just remember one thing when you ask what happened to me. 'I'm proud of us'.”

 

And I vanished from his view, so ready for the game of chase he was about to give. I heard him shout my name throughout the bunker, before silence struck. He knew better than to give me his location, especially when I started hunting him.

 

Time passed far too slowly for my liking so I took up the axe, literally, and began my hunt. After several doors down, or more appropriately, hacked through, he made his move. I heard it as though he were next to me.

 

“Come on, Sammy! Let's have a beer and talk about this! I'm tired of playing. Let's finish this game!” I called out, knowing exactly where he was. I could _feel_ him and his anxiety as he neared the corner. It was incredibly easy to fool him as I watched him peer around the corner and take a sigh of relief. Bad idea, Sammy.

 

He turned and I swung at his head, grinning as he ducked beneath me. The knife was at my throat in an instant, and I knew my eyes were black because of the imminent danger.

 

“Do it,” I said, watching the struggle creep onto his face. “It's all you.”

 

The struggle of the decision emanated from him in waves of panic and fear that curled the edges of my lips further. And then he turned and ran, ran like he always does when things get to hard.

 

I rolled my eyes as I sauntered down the hall, opting to break down every door that I passed in order to search for him. This was incredibly boring, this little manhunt of his, until the warning lights switched everything else off. That peaked my interest as it made me curious as to what he would try to do in this lighting. My eyes scanned for traps along the hallways I crossed, as I figured that'd be what he'd do. And yet, that's exactly what he'd managed to do. A trap, the same color as the lighting, painted on the floor near his room. I should've expected it.

 

The next part was boring as he carted me downstairs and into the little demon dungeon we had often used, chaining me up and setting me smack dab in the middle of the trap.

 

“I hate demons,” he spoke, pity and loathing combined in his gaze as he stared at me.

 

“I got a whole lot more running through me than just demon juice,” I said, amused by this little game of his. We carried on in this banter-fashion, he asking the obvious questions of who did this to me, and what really happened to me, so on and so forth.

 

“Let me tell you something, guys like me, we are the natural order, it's the way it was set up.”

 

“And guys like me still gotta do what we can.”

 

“You see... from where I'm sittin', there's not much difference between what I turned into and what you already are,” I said, smirking a little as the confusion passed over his face.

 

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asked, obviously affronted by my remarks.

 

“I know what you did when you were lookin' for me. I know how far you went. So let me ask you, which one of us is really the monster?” I said, smiling up at him as his face melted into an expression of fear.

 

He couldn't answer my question, I knew it. It was the whole reason I asked it. Sam couldn't face being the same kind of monster I am, because he knew, deep down, that he was in the wrong more than I was. He knew he was just as fucked up as me, and I could hear his soul screaming to the universe for all the wrongs to be righted, but all I felt was cold.

 

There is no going back from this, not now. Not ever. And Sammy needed to face that now.

 

“That's right, Sammy. You and I, we're the same, now.”

 


End file.
